Inner War
by LuvinChelleCity
Summary: This is basically about Scott dealing with Derek getting hurt. slash


**title: inner war**

**summary: really just a fic about Scott dealing with getting Derek hurt. He learns his lesson along with a few other things.**

**a/n: this has been on my laptop for a while, I thought I'd put it up.**

* * *

><p><strong> not the beginning but certainly not the end<strong>

_This shouldn't have happened. _

Derek's heavy, but Scott is persistent. And he'll carry Derek's weight even though he's stumbling. Scott won't let himself falter; his footsteps are shaky against the ground yet somehow strong. His left arm is wrapped tightly across Derek's back in an attempt to hold Derek upright; he's supporting all of Derek, while his right shoulder burns with a scorching disinterest to his more crucial crisis. Derek.

And as he attempts to move quickly, he tries exceedingly hard not to perceive the way Derek doesn't move or how the _blood_ is drenching through his shirt, he fails, and he would have cracked if not for the faint heartbeat he hears. It's enough for him.

Enough for him to keep going.

Scott glanced at Derek's face past the blood dripping down the side of his face, his face expressionless, not much of a change, Scott thought, letting a small sad smile form on his lips, but his eyes were closed and that sent a tormenting shiver down Scott's back. He's felt fear before but this wasn't it. This was something far more agonizing.

Scott's thoughts are drifting, his mind is in turmoil filled with guilt, hate and fear but he can't bring himself to focus on how this happened not till Derek is safe.

He doesn't hear anything behind them, but then again that was a good thing, he keeps moving.

His shoulder isn't the only thing aching right now but that was to be expected, he presumed. Derek and he were connected in too many confusing ways. He's tuned in on Derek's essence, and he really wish he wasn't because it's too much.

He can hear another heartbeat, and Scott silently thanks whoever he can for getting here safely.

"Man, what happened?"

Scott doesn't have time to explain, "Stiles, you have to drive."

"O-okay." Stiles nods shakily and hurries to the driver's seat.

"Stiles, wait. Help me get him in the back."

"Right, the back, oh my god," Scott watches as Stiles hesitates, runs a hand through his hair, and swallows audibly, "that is a lot of blood."

Scott growled irritably, he didn't need to hear that right now. "Shut up, open the door."

It wasn't too hard getting Derek into the backseat but it was unnerving and Stiles rapid heartbeat didn't offer any peace of mind. As soon as Scott is adjusted in the back with Derek taking most of the space and seats, Scott lifts up the older man shirt, and succeeds in not gagging. There's an assortment of holes and lacerations in Derek's chest, and a gash across his stomach, which has cerise sinew displayed. It's a sight that Scott is pretty sure he could have done without because it brings single-mindedness. He's too focused on Derek's heartbeat and too riveted by the dark, crimson liquid seeping through his clasped fingers as he tries to stop the blood, how it just… flows stubbornly despite his best efforts. It's so much, too much and-

Stiles yells, "Scott! Man, I know you're freaked but where? The hospital?"

Scott manages to tear his eyes from Derek and lift his head, "N-no." Derek has a place outside of town, "Out of town. Just keep driving, I'll tell you where to turn."

The unnatural silence in the car goes unnoticed by Scott. He's overly fixated on Derek even though it makes his eyes sting with unshed tears and his throat clench tight enough to be unable to speak. He's scared, and there is no reassurance around him that he can clutch onto. He just wants peace. He feels like a lost little kid with no one to help him. No one to lead and tell him everything is going to be okay. No one to explain why.

He's too deep in his thoughts and if he doesn't stop, he'll crack in pieces like a mirror. "Stiles, talk to me, please." He needs a distraction.

Stiles tells him a sequence of trivial matters, and they hold his attention for a while until he cast his eyes downward, eagle-eyed on Derek. "Let me see your phone. I got to call Dr. Deaton and …Jackson." Jackson needs to know as much as Scott hates to admit that. He is a part of the pack after all.

** unsure**

Scott's wrenching each bullet out with pliers; the sound of the bullets hits the metal tray with an impossibly loud clank. The bullets, far deep to be gentle, and every clank made his stomach tighten further as if that was possible. He had wrapped the gash with bandages and even though he had tried his best, they still looked crude. All he can do is try to stop the bleeding but hopefully Dr. Deaton will get here soon. Because he could have lived his whole life without knowing what the insides of a human being looked like or what the insides of Derek looked like. He already knows what the insides of an animal look like; he didn't need to add more nightmares. Though, this will.

"Hey, Scott, I'm sure Derek will be fine." If Stiles knew that his heart was telling a different story then he probably wouldn't have spoken.

He doesn't lift his head, only letting out an unsure, "Yea."

"I mean he'll heal right?"

Honestly, Scott's not sure anymore, he thought the gash would have at least healed. The bandages are now soaked thoroughly, a small portion of it has its original white color. The blood seemed to dirty the cloth.

Scott doesn't know how to answer, he's so unsure. He's never been so unsure. Sighing, he offers a warning to Stiles, "I'm changing the bandages." He knows how squeamish Stiles is.

Yet, Stiles breathes uneasily and asks, "Uh you need help?"

Scott can't help himself from smiling a little. Answering quietly, he says, "it's okay, I got it." It's a little commending that Stiles would ask to help considering the sight of Derek isn't pretty. Scott's fingers hover over the drenched bandages, his terrifying thoughts threatened to resurface again along with the insistent nausea that was bubbling up. Stiles closing the door knocked Scott out of it and he silently cursed the now empty room. He begins peeling the soaked dressings off and applying another one quickly. After he's done, Scott stares. It's all he can do. He feels helpless, unable to do his job. To do what was- no what is required of him.

He doesn't want it to but his mind wanders to the inevitable thinking of what if. What if Derek doesn't make it?

And almost on call, the memory of Derek telling him the duties of a Beta come forward with sharp accuracy.

** beta**

_Scott watches as Derek lifts the hood of the Camaro. He hates that he has close to no knowledge about cars, yet he still asks, "So can I help?" It no doubt has to do with his own craving need to aid his alpha but Scott would have probably asked regardless. _

_Derek raises his eyebrows, "Do you know anything about cars?" _

_It's not an insult but Scott's cheeks burn nonetheless, "Not really."_

"_Didn't think so. I need a certain part, Jackson's bringing it over."_

_It's ridiculous to feel like Jackson is competition especially since they're supposed to be brothers, united for a common reason. But that's not the case; they both covet the attention of their Alpha. They fight over Derek like two children battling over a new, shiny toy._

"_You could have sent me. I could have got it for you."_

_Derek's wringing a cloth between his grimy hands, "we went over this, Scott. Jackson isn't competition." Derek takes one more look at the engine before closing the hood. He leans against the car before speaking, "besides you don't know what the part looks like, let alone know what it is." _

_His response is on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back, and just nods. It's been quiet in Beacon Hills recently, and Scott's been feeling borderline useless. _

"_I plan on expanding the pack very soon. Things have been calm, and we could use it to our advantage." _

_Scott doesn't reply, he hates talking about this for a very noticeable reason. He's already dealing with Jackson, and more people means more quarrelling._

_Derek's eyes are now focused on Scott, and he continues on, "Increasing the pack will increase our strength as a whole, you know that. Lydia would be the obvious choice, we could use her. I also have someone out in Europe that could be helpful."_

_Scott lets outs an exasperated puff of air. He figured that Derek would want Lydia, which is going to be an issue. Lydia has some weird thing, she likes status and power. And with Derek being the alpha, she'll most likely go after him. But the person in Europe, Scott didn't know about. Annoyed and close to pissed, Scott answers, "Okay."_

_Derek notices how annoyed Scott is, "What?"_

_Scott shrugs, "Nothing. I just didn't think you were planning on multiplying the pack so soon." _

_Derek narrows his eyes, "Yes, you did." Derek takes steps a few intimidatingly steps towards Scott, "you're acting like a child. Drop the jealousy. You're the beta if I'm not around or when I'm not around, you're going to lead the pack."_

"_What do you mean by 'when you're not around?"_

"_Relax, I meant that as when I need to take care of out of town business."_

_Scott relaxes, "Right, I can do that."_

"_And if anything were to happen to me, you'd be the alpha. It's part of what a beta does." _

_Scott freezes he doesn't want to hear this. "Okay, got it." He's making to go inside but Derek pulls him back._

"_The beta wolf is usually the progeny of the alpha. That means if I die, you're the alpha. Even if I'm not dead, a beta usually provides food and protection for the pack. You have a responsibility." _

_Scott stood and kept his mouth shut, letting his inner turmoil of the idea run rabid in him. What happened to the Alpha pair? Wasn't that what Derek and him were?_

_And what if he doesn't want it. All Scott heard was he'd be the one to take over if Derek couldn't. "What if I can't?"_

"_Then you'll be challenged. But you could, you're strong and brave, a little stubborn but you'd make a strong alpha. Scott, that is what a beta does. Promise you'll do so."_

_Scott looked up, he didn't want to but Derek wasn't asking, "I promise."_

Scott was completely against the idea, still is. Because Scott's afraid, he's so very afraid. He knows it so much easier to follow then lead. He doesn't want it. Not if… Scott shook his head as if freeing his head of the thoughts, and speaks to Derek, "I-I don't want it." If Derek didn't make it, it would be the first promise he'd ever broken between them. But could he abandoned his pack?`

** promise**

"Scott, I'm a veterinarian not a doctor. There's only so much I can do. We should get him to a hospital."

"No. I can't – just fix him, okay? Just _fix_ him." Scott says it as if Derek is merely an injured puppy and Dr. Deaton can administer some shots and vitamins.

Dr. Deaton sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose, "I'll do my best. But …no guarantees. Your mother is a nurse, why don't you call her?"

"I have." It was a short conversation that consisted of unanswered questions, begging and shouting, "Jackson's bringing her. They should be here in a few minutes." He was dreading it but really what was he supposed to do? "I'll wait out there," Scott points to the door. It's not easy walking out but he forces a foot in front of the other and walks out. Scott hadn't left the room since they got here, the crippling fear that once he does, he will no longer hear the heartbeat that was haunting him. But he trusts Dr. Deaton and his mom will be here soon. She'd do everything she could to help Derek. Scott walks just outside the door, closes it and slides down against it. He cradles his head in his hands, images flash in front of him.

_Him scared _

_Derek in front of him barricading him from hunters_

_Bullets zooming past_

_Blood from both sides_

_His own teeth and claws ripping through human flesh_

_Derek falling_

"Scott?" Her worried face matches her voice.

There's a bit of relief that comes when he sees her, "Mom." Stuck and clinging on that childish innocence where you believe that your mother can fix everything.

"Scott, what is going on? You said someone could die."

"I'll explain, I will. Later. But right now, you have to help Derek." He opened the door, and led her in. "I _know_ you won't let him die."

Dr. Deaton nods wearily, "Ms. McCall. Glad to have you here, I could use your help."

Melissa McCall wasn't prepared for the sight in front of her, "Oh My God." Her instincts kick in and she rushes to Dr. Deaton side to assist.

All Scott's unease and nausea came back, "You can fix him, right Mom? Mom?"

"Scott, wait, outside."

Scott shook his head, and he was surprised to find that his voice didn't crack, "No, is he going to be okay?"

Melissa didn't know how her son knew Derek Hale, but she could see the concern in his eyes and something else. "I'll take care of him."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

** fall and burn**

He's sitting at the table, listening to the soft, slow lub-dub of Derek's heartbeat. The abode is peaceful, away from the town and allows Scott to breathe. He can feel Derek's pain along with his own and it is much to take in. Scott hisses and pulls the neckline of his shirt back. There's a red eyesore on his shoulder but he knows what it is. It just burns, so much that it's bringing tears to his eyes. Biting his lip and fisting his hand, Scott bites back a howl and growls angrily. It hurts.

Jackson comes to view right after the howl, "McCall." It's funny; Scott never knew Jackson could say it without contempt.

"Jackson." Scott covers up the mark though he pretty sure Jackson knows what it is too.

The long existing rivalry between doesn't exist at least not now.

Jackson knows what happens if Derek dies, "So …what happened?"

Scott keeps the answer short, "Hunters."

Jackson scoffs, "Right. Why didn't anyone call me?"

Scot rolled his eyes, and speaks through gritted teeth, "Because I didn't think. Because I didn't use my head. And now Derek …" Scott exhaled, "You're here now."

"If he dies-"

"He won't." Scott stood, "He's strong." End of discussion. There was a lot he should have done. He should have come prepared. He should have called Jackson. Too many should haves, and not enough doing. He knew one thing though he was going to hate himself after this. He put Derek in danger. He takes full blame for this. If he could take Derek's pain, he would.

This could break him. He's seen what losing a mate can do to a werewolf, it can cripple, destroy. Losing Derek is not an option. And if it was what would happen to _him_? So many questions and no answers.

Scott's not sure how to deal with loss, he hasn't lost anything before. He didn't lose his father, his father left him. The thought of losing Derek angers him.

Scott crossed his arms, "Listen, we need to build the pack." He wants revenge. "Recruit Lydia." The boiling hatred for the hunters is surfacing, "They're going to pay."

Jackson nods.

Scott realizes how quiet it is, and a panicked growl emerges from his throat, "Mom?" He doesn't hear it; he doesn't hear the lub-dub. "Mom?"

Scott runs towards the door, his hand just short of turning the knob when pain courses through his body. He's brought down onto his knees. "Aaah!" It's the same kind of pain he feels on the full moon but worse. It's starting from his shoulder and spreading. "Aaah!" Pretty soon everything dulls.

He can barely register the panic around him before darkness surrounds his vision.

** wake **

It's cold when Scott wakes up and he feels raw. It takes a while for his eyes to focus but they get there, "Derek?"

"Yo Scott, what happened?"

"Stiles?" His throat is dry. And when he attempts to sit up, searing pain cuts through him. "What happened?"

"I asked first. One minute you're fine the next you're on the ground."

Scott croaks, "I don't know but my body hurts."

"Really? But you look fine. Your mom even checked you."

"Well, I feel like I've been shot. A couple times. Where's Derek?"

Stiles looks uncomfortable, "Scott. He didn't- they couldn't save him."

Scott shakes his head in denial, "You're lying." Sliding down from the small dusty couch he was placed on, he stands on unsteady feet, and ignores the unnerving stillness. He ignores the foul scent of death and blood. His throat clenches painfully and Scott blinks away tears. He repeats it, "You're lying"

As he trenches on down the dark corridor towards the plaguing door, Scott clutches his chest. There's a poignant pain in it that Scott wants to go away. He honestly thought everything would be okay, he didn't see this impending death.

He hears something though, chirping outside. And that pains him so much more because life moves on, is moving on. As if nothing happened. It's a beautiful, peaceful morning with a cool breeze and Scott wonders if he woke up to hell. His wolf half is yowling in pain and Scott lets it.

Because the sun will come up, and the birds will chirp but Scott can't, he just can't. He's hurting and he wants to go back to sleep and just not wake up to this nightmare.

He's given up on trying to make it to the door; every step he takes towards the door seems like a step backwards.

Scott let out gasps that sound like strangled shouts. He rubs his face and gives. He gives up; he cries "I give."

Everything seems to still, he doesn't realize he's shouting in hysteria till he's being shaken awake.

** take and share**

"Scott! Shh! It's okay." He wakes up to his mother cradling him in her arms, cooing, "It's okay." That's all he wants to hear is that it'll all be okay.

He groans, "Mom. Tell me he's okay, _please_."

He's still in pain, still sore. And maybe slightly cracked like glass.

"He's okay."

Scott looked up to a small smile on his mother's face, "Say it again."

"He's okay."

Scott laughs in joy and maybe mania, "I want to see him." He can't tell if he's still dreaming.

"Okay but relax. You were suffering from a high fever last night."

That makes so much sense. He feels sick but he squirms out of her arms and onto his feet. He's tired but fixed. He makes his way to the door that he couldn't seem to reach in his nightmare.

He turns the knob and opens the door. Seeing the well-known scowl on Derek's face set perfectly in place is an alleviation of its own. And when Derek speaks it is so much better.

Derek's voice is gruff, "Jackson, go eat." Code for leave.

"McCall." Scott smiles, he knows Jackson is relieved also.

Scott watched Jackson leave, and turned to face Derek. He's expecting a reprimanding, for Derek to tell him how stupid he was to charge in to a Hunter's home without a plan. But it's quiet and Scott ends up breaking it, "I'm sorry. But I thought you were in trouble and yea I should have called Jackson but I thought I could handle it. I get it now; the point of a pack is so I don't have to fight battles alone. So I don't have to be alone." Scott finishes up with, "I didn't want you get hurt." But Derek did. Scott bowed his head.

"You should have called Jackson. But I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing although I'm not happy about you running into danger blindly for me. It's a little different when you're mate is in danger, you feel objective."

"So I'm not in trouble?"

Derek rolled his eyes, "You are, just not at the moment."

Scott let out a thankful breath, he observed Derek closing his eyes. He's still ashamed and oddly aching especially around his abdomen. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet.

Derek cracks open an eye, "You sore? "

"Yea." Scott puzzlingly answers. Of course Derek would be wondering if he's hurt.

"You can feel my pain, it's usually not so extreme but you must be tuned in on me. A little self-punishment? It even gave you a fever."

"Oh," Scott retorts meekly. He looks around the room. Scott's ashamed to ask for it, after-all he was not the one on the brink of death. He wants to be closer but doesn't ask.

Derek quirks an eyebrow, "Do I have to tell you to come closer or are you going to just stand there?"

Scott doesn't say anything; it's not a good feeling knowing that your mate almost died protecting you.

Derek shakes his head and moves to rise as if he's getting up.

Scott blurts out, "No. Don't." He'll go to Derek, he'll always go to Derek.

Derek lifts the edge of the sheets and moves over, Scott climbs in slowly. He's being really careful, not even allowing the slightest of touch.

Derek rolls his eyes once again, "I'm not going to fall apart."

"I know," It's just this close, he can see the bandages. And although Derek isn't showing it, Scott knows Derek is in pain.

"You do know if you were in danger _again_, I'd once _again_ put myself in that position. You're my mate." He _can't_ hear this now.

Scott knows that too, it doesn't make him feel any better though, "Are you okay?" He needs to hear it from Derek.

"I'm okay." Derek seems so firm.

"Yea," Scott slowly contemplates that. It's true he supposes to some extent.

His heart shifts heavily in his chest though, yet he doesn't let himself cry because he's supposed to be strong for them if Derek can't so instead Scott closes his eyes and swallows thickly. This has all been hell.

Derek grabbed ahold of Scott's chin and pressed their lips together. And it's what Scott needed. Because he didn't want to hear more of 'I'd die for you, I'd die anytime because I love you.' He can't deal with it, and doesn't want to comprehend it. Scott's not going to be able let go of Derek anytime soon, his wolf counterpart can't seem to grasp losing Derek. Scott isn't prepared to lose him.

** aftermath**

Scott had asked Derek for this. He wanted this, it'd give him peace. Because even though he didn't want to lose Derek he didn't want to lose anyone of his pack members, they were his family. So they were preparing for war. Werewolves against Hunters.

Scott smiles as he takes a look around the pack. All heads are pointed up, howling their presence towards the full moon.

Scott glimpsed at the Alpha and snarled for silence. As the alpha lets out his ear-piercing holler, Scott growls triumphantly, turns his gold, glinting gaze upward also and lets his own howl out through sharp, protruding fangs.


End file.
